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antiquing

Isn’t it funny the things that we become attached to? When I look through my room, I have so many things: books, hats, clothes—the list goes on and on. And yet, when you ask me to point out the things that I would take with me if I had to leave it all behind, it’s the funny, nearly valueless things that mean so much to me. Now I’m not saying I would leave me rings and jewelry PUH-lease. It’s just some of my favorite things are quite unexpected. Take for instance this picture:

I randomally picked it up one day in a cute shop in Oxford called Arcadia (really a haven for vintage papers of all kinds). I think I probably got it because it was the only old magazine reproduction that was under 10 pounds, and yet, it has brought me so many smiles. One of my friends even referred to it as the “naked girl” picture. But that little French adventurer is more than a sometimes naked girl to me. She’s sort of my spirit animal. Well, the other day I looked at it and found myself caught looking at the white outfit. I couldn’t think if I had any hat that would be anything like hers and more or less gave the idea up. Literally, less than 5 days later, I was browsing an antique warehouse and came upon the on I’m wearing in pictures for 5 dollars. It was fate! I hope you like my interpretation.

Isn’t it funny how some of the most accidental discoveries can end up being your favorite things? That’s the way I feel about this cape, and this lovely old town. As for the forner, my friend Elizabeth and I both enjoy a thrift store joke about as much as a thrift store gem. This being the case, she texted me a picture of the “ridiculous cape” she saw while out one day. My only response besides replacing my gaping jaw, was “It’s perfect.” And the economical birthday present was “in the bag.” Subsequently, this (maybe Aztec-inspired) article has become one of my favorite accessories. Paired with what I would consider, “conquistador” boots, I was ready to traipse through (and match the peacocks in) America’s first Spanish colony, St. Augustine.

I really love this city. It’s definitely had its ups and downs (something I will discuss more tomorrow), but it has retained a local flair and eccentric warmth, so that I can’t help but want to be a part of. It’s large enough to be interesting, but small enough to be walkable, and I spent this morning going to a few of the more historic sites for pictures. Hope you enjoy seeing them as much as I enjoyed making them!

What could be lovelier on a Sunday afternoon than to stroll in the park, visiting Roman ruins in a historic cathedral town? I bring you St. Albans, a gorgeous village thirty minutes outside of London, named after England’s first Christian martyr, birthplace of John Churchill (the first Duke of Marlborough, and as you may remember my previous post, victor of the Battle of Blenheim) and home to the only existing medieval clocktower in England (which was used as a semaphore tower in the Napoleonic wars). Yet the most epic sight of St. Albans is probably St. Albans Cathedral, a Gothic monolith, legendarily built with stones taken from Roman ruins rolled up the (long) hill from Verulamium Park and completed in 1089. It was here that the first draft of the Magna Carta was written, and it was once the largest cathedral in England! We arrived around 2:00 in the afternoon (Blackfriars to St. Albans is about a 30 minute ride for ~10 pound return fare). It’s a ten minute walk up to the church through the village area, but on the way you pass through the adorable square (where you will find the clocktower). Once there, you follow the signs and slip down a side street, and all the sudden the Cathedral comes out of nowhere! We were surprised we couldn’t see it towering over the horizon. Once you’ve found it, you wonder how you could have missed it! It takes a full five minutes to walk around the whole thing! It sits at the top of a hill which slopes down to the Park. There you can enjoy the company of weeping willows, frantic children and Roman ruins alike—we certainly did.

One of the “rules” that most annoyed me as a child was the unspoken mandate that white was unacceptable after Labor Day. Seriously, why did half of my wardrobe become unnecessarily moot when Fall in Georgia doesn’t begin until November? While the ban on whites acted as a good excuse to buy new shoes, I never liked wearing off-white (let’s be honest– it’s not “off” it’s dirty), or really changing my routine at the behest of some old lady’s exaggerated interpretation of Emily Post. If we don’t wear black for two years anymore when someone dies, why hang on to the rest of the Victorian eccentricities to dress?

By now it’s probably clear that this post offers an example rejecting this rule into Fall, and in order to show you how, I went to a neighborhood in Atlanta, affectionately (and somewhat jarringly) called the “White Provision.” The name comes from an old shirt factory building that remains in the area (though no longer making shirts).

A lot of great food places line the opposite side of the building, including Atlanta’s number one rated resturant Bachanalia. However, if the 5-course prix fixe menu is out of your budget, the operation has an adjoining cafe/ bakery called Star Provision, where you can sample the kitchen’s fares before commiting to the date night. In my case, I shared a charcuterie and a box of sweets (go for the ginger cookie!).

As for my outfit, I’m wearing knock off Ray Bans, a Talbots white linen blazer (thrifted), a Chloe sequin tank top (Ebay), vintage Givenchy purse (Ebay), Gap white skinny jeans, Primark heels, and a ribbon literally taken from an Agent Provacateur box. My necklace is thrifted as well. As far as carrying white into Fall, I think that jeans are a great way to go. While seasonally appropriate, they still make enough of a statement, but will pair well with Fall separates. The blazer, I think, is a harder sell, especially this one since it’s linen….

A quick word on blazers: if there is one item that you look for in a thrift store, try blazers. I think they are a very good intro. to the art of effectively shopping for used clothes. Most generic blazers will run you somewhere in the range of 40 dollars, which is a disgruntling price to pay for a glorified cardigan (unless of course it has elbow pads.. in which case do what you have to do). Most blazers are going to look less sketchy on the rack than a lot of the other hand-me-downs, and a lot of times you can score on some great brands you might not have been able to find otherwise. I know I’ve found DKNY, Pendleton, Brooks Brothers, Talbots, and Ann Taylor to name a few.

Alright. It’s your turn. Go on out there and crush some Victorian sensibilities, and when you do, be sure to share in a comment below. I’d love to see your interpretation of “Winter White.”

Happy May Day! I hope you are able to find a suitable Maypole on this most revelrous of holidays. When I was studying in Oxford, my first night out we met a real life Morris dancer! He was this huge burly guy with an very long electric orange beard. The five of us were crowded around this wisp of a table (and there couldn’t have been more than 5 tables in the pub), while this man just told us insane stories and demanded that he buy us fine Irish sipping whiskeys.

It was all rather surreal, but to commemorate the day, I’ve decided to borrow from the British invasion for the title of this post (you can cheat and click the link if you don’t know what I’m talking about).

I really like the idea of being able to take the same basic elements and create various outfits with distinctly different feelings. Here’s my example. I’ve started with :

I know it’s noxiously UO, but I’ve been skulking along their sales racks. You can recreate virtually the same look (give or take the cropped shirt) fairly easily and inexpensively (although I’d advise avoiding impulse buying sunglasses :P). From here it’s up to you to explore!

I wanted to start with an outfit that I thought I might could get away with before Mimi scoffed at the crop top. I added this Aztec meets Jackie O Anthropologie coat, a floral scarf as belt, and a 1950s(?) floral hat that always reminds me of synchronized swimming.

Just when I think I’m getting better with the camera, I lose an arm…

It’s quite ironic to me that while being covered up nearly head to toe, people can be scandalized or find the skin gap indiscreet. I’m sorry, but no one is going to be turned on by my Starbucks bulge (aka white mocha (it’s even taken on the color) holder, aka stomach). Let me be and pretend that I’m in California as the weather vacillates between 40 and 70. To be honest, I was so self conscious wearing the crop top all day. I kept thinking “people will think I’m fat,” “people will think I’m promiscuous (except I used various synonyms depending on my varying histrionics).” But neither of those seemed like legitimate reasons to not try the style.

But I did cheat a little. I did not show belly button (heaven forbid!). Fun Fact- When I Dream of Jeannie first aired, the network demanded that Barbara Eden’s belly button not show in her costume, as they thought it would be far too scandalous for their viewer audience.

The veritable bra and see-through pants though? Those were fine. So I’m with Babs here on the next one.

This was supposed to be aiming more at a Joni Mitchell, festival-friendly (without feeling dirty) look. I added an estate sale black bag, locket watch necklace, and blue brimmed hat (charity shop in Oxford). I think the secret to festival, flowy hair looks is a broad-brimmed hat. This one is pretty small. The ideal is the love child of Indiana Jones and a floppy hat.

Here’s a close up on accessories:

Earrings: marketplace in India
Locket-watch necklace: Native American store- Athens, Georgia
Rings: Fossil, Notre Dame bookstore, and I found one on the ground… can you guess which is which?
Scarf: Talbots

You never really know what you’re going to find at an estate sale. For instance, last week, we stumbled across this priceless gem:

Look closer…

closer…

Ahhh piquant lemon lime flavor, how could we resist you for that long 16 years? Finally, for a mere $2.00 (I didn’t even know Gatorade expired), you can be ours! We’ll just conveniently ignore the ominous game expired looming at us.

In particular at estate sales, I always like to see the weeeeeird stuff people collect. Three weeks ago, the woman collected cow totems and the man was obsessed with trains. This past week, I couldn’t escape bowling mementos (prizes, pins, pens, jerseys) only to find out the couple had owned a bowling alley. My roommate loves to go to collect cardinal ornaments (I had no idea people had so many things with cardinals on them. Now that I’ve noticed, they can’t be unseen! Seriously, go check your house). And of course, I’m always on a mission to locate the hats (with varying success). So here’s the haul of the past two weeks:

I stayed relatively calm throughout this venture, but J raided the place. I’ve never gone to an estate sale with anyone who walked away with more than I bought, but in J’s defense, at times, it was like walking through an Urban Outfitters giveaway. Like these smashing new swim trunks:

Panda-licious

PreFontaine Meets Brooks Brothers: A Real American Tradition

California, here he comes.

J also managed to snag several tomes on the (alleged) conspiracy that was the Clinton presidency and a 1950s guide to a Successful Sex Life in Marriage (approved by the American Medical Association, New York Daily, and Catholics of America- all for two dollars!). But the greatest find of the day was probably this little guy:

Upon seeing him, Joe immediately said, “Herbert?” And with his reluctant grin, Herbert returned Js gaze.

This sassy little strigiform is making me seriously reconsider my views on love at first sight. He’s so bold, yet demure! Suffice it to say, he and J have already moved in together. May you be so lucky in love on your next adventure! Happy Friday!

Can a 4-dimensional topological sphere have two or more inequivalent smooth structures?Do the nontrivial zeros of the Riemann zeta function all have real part 1/2?

And the equally perplexing but lesser known:

What is it about French girls?

They’re so cool- even brushing their teeth! What is that je ne sais quoi that envelops their being and reverberates through their every move? I’m no Archimedes, but I have a humble hypothesis, I’d like to present to you before the sweat begins to drizzle down your unassuming neck:

Pigtails.

And the most wonderful thing about pigtails done right? It doesn’t matter your body type.. they’re just whimsical and sexy without being too revealing (although I ask in advance you do your darndest to not to “Hit me baby, one more time”).

If Brigette can keep the girls in, so can you.

For a sassy but sexy, whimsical yet mature, escape from the heat, think Paris, pigtails, and ignore those Union Jacks in the background…

Don’t forget the sass.

Beret: antiquing
Necklace and bracelet: gift from a friend
Shirt: See By Chloé
Pants: H&M
Belt: Zara (although they were included with a pair of khakis
Shoes: Primark (surprise, right?)

*Remember* Try your very best to stay away from Brittany’s Catholic schoolgirl (at least until later), or someone might just send a….

I realize it’s Valentines, but I’m home alone watching King Kong by myself, so I would prefer to write about something entirely irrelevant to the holiday and fashion week.

My roommate and I are serious about some estate sales. Prices are negotiable. Discoveries are around every corner (and some of these old birds really fill every nook). You learn about tons of new old things that you never knew existed. Adventure is out there, and it’s so affordable!

Today’s Capture.

I can’t wait to force someone to wear these.

The only real cons to estate sales are that:
1. You never know how big the “estate” really is. Even when people put up pictures, it’s often quite hard to tell is that one shelf of books or are you really stocked? Do the three tables constitute “lots of furniture”? Do not lure me in to your glorified yard sale. I do not want your old knappy Keds.

2. There is a reason the estate is being liquidated, and it is often unpleasant. As I descend like a locust on old hats and hat boxes, it’s an ominous feeling to know the person that owned these articles is… gone. As my friend Dominick so aptly stated, “It’s a visible reminder you can’t take it with you.” I prefer the happy couples selling everything so they can escape to their dream home on the beach.

While the estate sales just South of Atlanta are alright, generally prices are a bit higher and the estates are more heavily trafficked. One of the few reasons that I enjoy rural Indiana is because finally the laws of supply and demand have harkened towards my favor. Since being here, I’ve never paid more than $10.00 for a vintage hat. One of the few reasons that I enjoy rural Indiana is because finally the laws of supply and demand